Poetry and Creative Writing for All

Barbara Sanderson

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Nightscape

As the hidden sleepers float away
On silent wings, to dreamlands beyond the stars
Dark fingers steal across the land
Clad in gloves of softest velvet.
To cast a spell of ancient magic
Bringing life to the shadow-world
So night's shaded garden blooms once more.

Bathed in moonbeams, a silver ribbon weaves
It's time-washed path through enchanted lands
A sepia tinted canvas, where every colour sleeps
While midnight's veil is drawn across it's face.
This frozen image captured forever
In shades of monochrome vision,
From deepest silky black to gleaming white.

And the hushed tones of a wandering breeze
Drift over wind-blown moonscapes,
Echoing the night bird's sweeping flight
Across a diamond studded sky.
Traveling onwards in search of morning's light
Through the icy beauty of a moonlit, starfield night.

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Perfect Storm

The grim foreboding quality
Of heavy silence bearing down,
A hint of threat felt subtly
On stormy air that wears a frown.
In eerie storm lit brimstone sky
Of faded yellow yesterday,
Towering iron clouds reach high
Performing in the shadow play.
While behind a thunderhead there waits
Impatient lightning poised to strike,
A weapon in the hand of fate
The storm god's blazing fiery spike.
And as all things wait with bated breath
Suspended in a dreamlike thrall,
The first raindrops fall to their death
Summoned by the stormcock's call.
Pent-up power unleashed at last
As nature's fury takes on form
Wild outriders galloping fast
Bringing down a perfect storm.

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Desperadoes

Dinner party desperadoes
Desperate to impress,
Tofu and sun-dried tomatoes
Financial success.
For the rustic country kitchen,
A king's ransom's due
For the modern mostest hostess
Nothing less will do.

Imported marble worktops
Terracotta on the floor
Pretension bought and paid for
That's what men are for.
"You must pop round for drinks, my dear,
Perhaps a bite to eat,
Come and see what I've got
But mind you wipe your feet."

Out shopping for the perfect meal
They waft around the aisles
Magnifique, designer chic
High heels click on tiles.
The middle-classless mothers
Of the botox brigades,
Dressed up way beyond the nines
Behind the dior shades.

Nipped and tucked and lifted
Within an inch of their lives,
Manicured mannequins
High-browed readers wives,
Where every hour's cocktail hour
And gold cards are blades
Tasteful shades of tangerine,
The suntan never fades.

Spoilt suburban senoritas
Fashion is their passion
With elocuted accents
And whitened teeth a-flashing,
Those hardened feministas
Lets leave them be for now,
But lets not say goodbye, oh no
Its au revoir or ciao.....!

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Summersong

In forgotten time of ages past
Forged in nature's crucible,
A timeless spell of life was cast
The promise of the summersong.
The land was kissed by frozen lips
And blown upon by snow-filled breath,
Caressed by icy fingertips
Winter's lethal kiss of death.
The cold came swift on soaring wings
And all was dead and grey as dawn,
The ice remained, there was no spring
No time for green and life reborn.
And so it was for countless years
The land a white and barren place,
Snowbound, locked in frozen tears
That fell upon a frozen face.
Then deep beneath the brutal earth,
Carved by glaciers for so long,
Forgotten force began to stir
The first notes of the summersong.
This song of life rang through the land
The icy palace began to melt,
Set free, the frozen rivers ran
Touched by sunlight warmly felt.
So winters spell was finally broke
And once again a bright sun shone,
The voice of nature's power spoke
And sang the sacred summersong.

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Nothing to hide?

There's a man who wears a grey suit
Who has an all-seeing eye,
Whose job it is to catch you out
And make up the reasons why.
He's the man who enforces 
Rules not invented yet,
So try to avoid the steely gaze
Of the Swivel-Eyed Get.

It's simply no excuse to say
"I thought it was legal, sir",
He'll never, ever let you off
No blind eye will he turn.
This man will never aid you
And he certainly won't abet,
Walk the other way if you see
The Swivel-Eyed Get.

And those of you who think you're safe
The ones with nothing to hide,
Don't get too complacent folks,
This man is paid to find
Those who think they're innocent
Who've broken no rules yet,
There's nowhere to hide 
From the Swivel-Eyed Get.

If you've blinds at your windows
He'll soon be sending you
A fixed penalty notice
For impeding his view.
And he's deaf to all your protests
Doesn't care if you're upset,
Cos he's the maker of the rules
He's the Swivel-Eyed Get!

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Darker Times

Distant lonely voices
They echo through my head,
Replaying conversations
Words already said.
A soundtrack of regret
These twisted melodies,
Sandman deliver me from 
Darker times like these.

The bedroom clock says 3 am
But sleep is nowhere near,
As clouds drift across the moon
Dark shadows shift in here.
Cigarette smoke and mirrors
The ghosts of memories,
Oh spirit me away from
Darker times like these.

Dawn hides round the corner
Of this nights darkest hour,
The time is late, I'm still awake
As the clock strikes four.
And the wind talks in whispers
As it creeps between the trees,
Its speaking of secrets
And darker times like these.

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Hunters Moon

A hunters moon is cast adrift
On silent seas of autumn mist,
And swirling woodsmoke evening breeze
Sends tendrils creeping through the trees,
To summon dying leaves to fall
For nature answers winter's call,
Now autumn's splendor ebbs away
But a memory, faded to grey.

Fields of spiderwebs in dew
A moonlit vision in midnight blue,
Orion's moon's celestial flight
Cuts a sky bound path through the night,
On whispered breaths of chilly air
November's voice speaks quiet, but clear,
Winter's time is coming soon
It's following the hunters moon.

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Submission Guidelines: Poems of no more than 30 lines in length each will be considered.